


coming home (to reclaim this heart you owned)

by wants2die



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Not Canon Compliant, amelia pond because amelia pond is the queen of time and space, intense hugging scene, lotta maaagic, rose tyler because dimensions bow to the queen of wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wants2die/pseuds/wants2die
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the other side of the wall, in another universe, a mad man is standing with Amelia Pond, holding the sonic screwdriver and wearing the tattered clothes of a man who no longer exists.</p><p>New face, new form, but the same eyes -  eyes that have seen all of time and space, eyes that have seen so much growth and so much heartbreak and so much happiness.</p><p>The Doctor's sonic screwdriver clatters to the floor as the two parts of Amelia's wall come apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coming home (to reclaim this heart you owned)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the gotye song "coming back", kudos/comments are 100% appreciated and squealed over.

 Even in the middle of the night, Torchwood thrums with activity. Every room is filled with scientists and soldiers, all scratching their heads over some problem or another.

 But there’s one room that nobody dares to enter.

 In the year or so that Rose Tyler has lived here (it’s been one year, three months, and sixteen days, and Rose has counted every one of them) she’s never let anyone else enter this room. The room where she laid her head against the wall sobbing, knowing that she wouldn’t hear anything from the other side. The room where she was taken from her Doctor and told she could never return.

 It is the memorial to her time with the Doctor in the TARDIS, to the days that were filled with space and time and a man with a brilliant smile and the kindest, saddest, fiercest eyes. Not even her mother is allowed to disturb her on the days when missing her Doctor overwhelms her and she runs to this room, rests her head against the wall, and sobs.

 The splinters in the fabric of time and space are gone now, and every Torchwood official Rose has begged, pleaded, and shouted at has only shaken their head. There is no returning to her universe. If she tries, both universes will collapse.

 There are days when her mother has to stop her from trying.

 She tries her hardest to move on. She works, she makes herself eat, she talks to Mickey and her mum and Pete. If she cries herself to sleep, then at least her tears are dried by morning and her sobs are muffled by her pillow. Rose doesn’t let her sadness show when the light of day plays witness.

 But on days like today, she feels like she’s going to burst with the feel of it. Sadness thrums underneath her skin, prickles at the back of her mind, and wells up in the corners of her eyes.

 So she slips into this room that she has made her sanctuary, and she rests her head against the wall and the tears run down her cheeks.

 “C’mon, Doctor,” Rose whispers to the wall. “Come on, Doctor, fall from the sky in your magic box and take me back to the stars. You can. I know you can. You brilliant man, you can do anything you like, so _take me back with you_.”

 Just as the last words fall from her lips and a tear falls from her eyes and splashes against the ground, Rose’s wall splits open.

 A crack splinters across its surface, glowing faintly with bright light.

 Rose traces her fingertips across it. _That’s impossible_ , she thinks with a faint smile. _Lucky for me, I happen to know a man who deals in the impossible._

* * *

On the other side of the wall, in a different universe, a young girl with ginger hair and a Scottish accent is standing inside of her new bedroom, staring at the crack in her wall. Her parents don’t think anything’s wrong with it, but Amelia Pond can already sense something’s off. It’s too bright, almost like it’s glowing... and sometimes, if she listens hard enough, there’s a voice coming through - female, London, and terribly sad.

* * *

Every day that week, she revisits her room, spending hours watching her crack. If she listens hard enough, it’s almost as if she can hear voices coming through. At first there are three, one big and gruff, one high and breathy, one childish and Scottish. Then after a few weeks she can only hear the Scottish girl’s voice coming through.

 She doesn’t tell anyone about the crack.

 Not even as light keeps spilling out from the crack, wispy tendrils of pale smoke curling across her skin and flowing towards the other end of the room. Not even when she hears a young girl sobbing messily on the other side.

 If she told anyone, it wouldn’t be _her_ crack in _her_ wall anymore. They would demand to see, their presence would cheapen the sanctuary that she has built for herself.

 Rose doesn’t want that.

 She thinks it might have changed her, all that time spent sitting on the cold ground with silver light bouncing through her soul. When she closes her eyes and concentrates hard, she can recall the feeling of time and space flowing through her veins. This is different. She remembers warm golden light and voices whispering at her ear and a throbbing in the back of her head.

 This is a puff of silver when she exhales long and hard, tendrils of argentate magic rising from the back of her hands if she stares long enough, the universe knocking into the corners of her mind and Rose throwing the doors wide open.

 Then comes the day that everything changes.

* * *

On the other side of the wall, in another universe, a mad man is standing with Amelia Pond, holding the sonic screwdriver and wearing the tattered clothes of a man who no longer exists.

 New face, new form, but the same eyes - eyes that have seen all of time and space, eyes that have seen so much growth and so much heartbreak and so much happiness.  

 The Doctor’s sonic screwdriver clatters to the floor as the two parts of Amelia’s wall come apart.

* * *

 Rose scrambles back from the wall as the crack splits open before her eyes.

 A man with floppy hair and a torn blue shirt stands frozen still, his mouth wide open with shock. A young girl with ginger hair and a nightie looks up at the raggedy man in confusion.

 “R-ro-Rose?” the man whispers, speaking the name like a prayer.

 “... What?” Rose whispers back. “Who are you?”

 Just as Rose’s mouth forms the last word, her eyes fall upon the floor, and the long grey screwdriver with its familiar blue tip resting there. She’s watched that thing open doors millions of years into the future, and disable the computer in Mickey’s flat. She’s heard its song all over the universe - everywhere she’s been, it’s been, the Doctor’s trusty sonic screwdriver.

 She would recognise that screwdriver anywhere.

 “D-Doctor?” she asks hesitantly.

 The man nods, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

 “You’ve changed your face again,” she says quietly.

 Again the Doctor nods, his new hair flopping slightly. “Is it - do you like it?” he asks, fumbling over the words.

 “I think,” Rose says with a slight grin, pushing herself off of the floor, “that your suit is absolutely disreputable. We’re going to have to find you some new clothes, Mr. Spock.”

 The Doctor’s face lights up with a beam.

 Rose’s smile grows to match the Doctor’s, and she takes a running leap through the crack in her wall, throwing her arms around her Doctor’s neck.

 “I love your hair,” she mutters into his neck.

 “Rose Tyler, I love you,” the Doctor says back, and Rose knows that she’s finally home again.

(The ginger girl wrinkles her nose and coughs pointedly. “Hel _lo_ ,” she says, waving the Doctor's sonic screwdriver in their direction. “I think we've had enough of the cuddling, yeah?”)

**Author's Note:**

> heeeeeey. so, a couple people have expressed interest in the possibility of this becoming a series, and i was wondering whether any of you would actually be interested in that? 
> 
> rose is one of my favourite fictional characters eveeeeer and i love her to pieces, and i want to write a fucking sonnet on how beautifully her kind, posessive nature would bounce off of rory's patient protective streak, amy's stubborn, beautiful, and boneheaded habit of pushing away the people she loves, and eleven's innate darkness he tries to keep pushed down inside of him. hell, i want rose/river bonding over how much they both love the doctor. idk, but i need all of you awesome ppl's opinions if this is to become a Thing That Happens, kay?


End file.
